


The Lies We Tell Ourselves

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: I Know It Hurts 2020 [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Hurt No Comfort, I need a hug, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Stephen Strange, Protective Tony Stark, Stephen Strange Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Tony didn't like goodbyes.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: I Know It Hurts 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947541
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	The Lies We Tell Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Don't say goodbye

Stephen stood by the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back, to the point that the almost constant ache had turned into something sharper. He had been there for hours, body stiff from the rigid pose, unmoving, unshakable. Anyone that might have seen him, at those precise late hours, might think him a statue or a mannequin clad in the ornate robes of the Sorcerer Supreme.

His outside appearance was nothing but a mask to cover the devastation ravaging his body within. Stephen’s gaze was not on the abandoned streets or twinkling streetlights below the Sanctum, no, his eyes were fixated solely on the figure currently tangled up in his bed, mouth open and expression as close to peaceful as it had ever been.

It was difficult not to hate himself for the pain he was going to inflict on the man he loved. Tony didn’t know it yet, not until morning light roused him from his slumber, but these next few hours, perhaps eight in total, were quite plausibly the last they would ever spend together.

Stephen finally moved, but it was only to close his eyes against sting prickling them, against the waves of heartbreak crashing against him. There was a part of him that always knew this was how it would be one day, that what little happiness they’d managed to piece together with frayed nerves and weary smiles, was a fragile and temporary thing…it didn’t make the end of it all any easier.

Tony Stark had been inevitable. Stephen remembered with the clarity of first light after a long night, too bright to see properly, the thousands of futures circling in his head as he sought a way to win, to find a path that did not include Thanos and dust and grief.

What he had found instead…was nothing short of shocking. The way their lives had intertwined, dancing around each other and through, the way he’d seen them again and again as they grew old, whether it be as friends or lovers…there had been something fated in it.

Stephen had let himself be taken in by the fantasy.

He had wanted to believe in those possibilities because they had far outnumbered the one they were now living in. The ones where their paths entangled so deeply and irreversibly, only to veer sharply away as death parted life. Now, Stephen knew enough to recognize that the Stone had intentions of its own, had been playing its own game so that it might one day be reunited with its master.

The stone had made the sacrifices easy, knowing what was waiting for him.

Wong had offered to go in his stead…had looked at him with accepting, dutiful eyes, more then ready to take up the sword of their most recent enemy, if it meant sparing Stephen any more pain. It was humbling to have a friend like that, to know, without a shadow of a doubt there was somebody in his corner, at his back.

Stephen would never do that to him. If he didn’t return, a fact that was almost as inevitable as Tony, Kamar-Taj would need Wong. He wouldn’t be surprised if his friend grew into something more then the keeper of the library, beyond co-defender of the New York Sanctum.

Stephen was finding, it was so much harder to die when you were hurting people that loved you. He’d sacrificed himself more times then he could count and those had been easy compared to leaving behind the man in his bed.

Finally, Stephen shifted, his muscles sore as he slowly made his way toward Tony’s sleeping form. It agonized him to be this close, to know there was so much he wished to say and none of it could be. Tony didn’t like goodbyes, not any form, as though, by not saying the words he would have to come back…just to leave nothing unspoken. 

Reaching out a trembling hand, Stephen smoothed back Tony’s hair. The man, still entirely taken by sleep, seemed to nuzzle up into the sensation. It was quite suddenly difficult to breathe, forcing Stephen to inhale deeply, desperately, in the silence of the night. His body shook but no sounds escaped from between his clenched teeth…he would not cry, not where Tony might see him.

Stephen couldn’t tell him.

If he did, Tony wouldn’t let him go and if he didn’t go…well there wasn’t much life left to be had anyway. If they didn’t defeat their foe while he remained in his own world, then he would ravage earth in the battle here. Stephen and the sorcerers could not let it get that far and Stephen couldn’t watch his friends die while knowing he held the Stone and the only chance around his neck.

Tony wasn’t selfish, he wouldn’t trade Stephen for the death of their world…but he would insist on going with him and that was a thought, worse then dying alone.

“I love you,” the words were whispered, torn from his throat and burning on the way out. “I love you.”

He said them again and again, knowing that as each minute ticked closer, he was getting to the last time he ever could. Stephen had never been one for poetry, neither had Tony, and those three simple words almost felt like caricature of his feelings for him, but they would have to be enough.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Warm brown eyes open groggily, looking up at him with an endearing mix of confusion and concern. Stephen hated the way they made him want to abandon his vows and fall to his knees if only to never have to say goodbye.

“I love you, too.”

Seven more hours and counting. Stephen slipped into the bed, fully clothed and let Tony gather him close in his arms, He pressed his ear to his chest and counted the heartbeats, tried to match them to his own and ignored the way Tony was radiating worry. This was worth it, these last few years were enough.

Stephen would pretend that wasn’t a lie.


End file.
